Aftermath of Battle
by JazzMind
Summary: This is a SSHG one-shot, which I've read a few of but never written before; it is utterly innocent of a beta's eyes. I decided to write an after-final-battle ficlet, and it came out quite well, thank you. ;) I review back.


Aftermath of Battle  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
This is not my universe, and I freely admit that there are no pixies in this story, although I am afraid that I may end up scaring some of my friends. This is a SSHG one-shot, unbeta-ed, and probably PG-13, but not anything major, thank you. If you feel a need to either throw up or look at me funny after you read this, well... I warned you.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Severus Snape nuzzled the neck of the girl in his arms. He knew that he was cold comfort, when it came to physical reassurance, but he was warm and nearby, and he firmly believed that that was all necessary to reassure. Certainly, it was all that he required. The unique scent, smell, _taste_ of Hermione Granger was not calming his nerves any more than a warm embrace with say, Rosmerta, would have done under the same circumstances.  
  
The texture of her hair under and through his fingers was not making his racing heartbeat slow to any more contented a pace than... He lost his train of thought as he took them gently against one of the walls of the great hall of Hogwarts, shielding her from a spray of sticky confetti, which stuck to the back of his robes and giggled. Around them, the seventh and sixth-years were randomly embracing, reassuring themselves that their ordeal was over. The remaining, magical cold was not dissipating half as quickly as he would have preferred; he drew her further into his robes, wrapping them around her shivering shoulders.  
  
He knew that holding up Harry as he had drawn on her for magical energy to cast curse after curse- while simultaneously casting some terribly effective spells of her own- had left her very close to the edge of shock, and he was determined to not let her slip into a chill which, combined with her rather complete magical draining, would undoubtedly make the infirmary one girl fuller if she was left to her natural stubbornness against admitting weakness.  
  
Hermione Granger was very tired, and very blurry. All she could make out clearly in her normally excellent mind was :we won: and, seemingly more importantly, :mine.: The warm figure embracing her with the smell of black tea and warm firelight was _hers._ Somewhere in the back of her mind, where the rational part was still half-heartedly struggling against the sheer adrenaline let-down, she knew that that was rather illogical.  
  
~*~  
  
The great battle. It had been nothing even vaguely resembling an anticlimax. Albus Dumbledore was alive, if drained; Harry Potter would, as soon as his more prosaic wounds were healed, be resting comfortably in a room at Saint Mungo's waiting for his soul to regenerate itself from the uncomfortably rent tatters that Voldemort had left. The once-dreaded Lord's name was up on signs; the populace was enjoying immensely their new freedom to insult the no-longer-with-us Dark Lord by his chosen name, and it was already the butt of horrendous insults on Muggle tshirts. Thank gods they didn't know why.  
  
The infirmary was full to overflowing; no few brave were dead. No few Eaters were alive, if rapidly becoming as bit worse for wear as enraged Aurors dragged them to court for a trial that would likely end with Azkaban.  
  
~*~  
  
-Flashback-  
  
AVADA KEDAVARA! Harry Potter watched his adversary, weakened, collapse and then dissipate into thin air, leaving behind only his robes.  
  
Severus's Dark Mark burned one final time with the agony of soul's expulsion, flashed a brilliant white, and seared itself out of existence.  
  
Albus sat carefully on the dais. His years were etched starkly on his face, and Minerva fluttered as much as that estimable woman ever had, seeing carefully to his health.  
  
Hugs were being exchanged all around, as much for shared body heat as anything. Severus Snape, exhaustion written on his face, wrapped his cloak around himself disdainfully, distancing himself from the celebrations. He levitated six students who had been tossed into a painful sprawl into a heap at the far end of the hall, and escorted them over to Pomfrey in her makeshift sickbay on the dais. Noting a small figure hunched in a side alcove, he returned. To find Miss granger, who had then quietly flown sobbing into his arms.  
  
Feeling unmercifully inadequate, he tucked her to him, brushing her hair back from her tearstained face. She was crying something about oh, how ...HE... had been so evil, and she was so cold, and would someone please hold her because she was freezing.  
  
The evil-magic aura around the Hall was rapidly fading with Voldemort's final dismissal from this plane of existence, but it was still unseasonably chilly. He tucked her further into his robes, leaning them both against a wall and wrapping his leg around hers while chafing her fingers with his hands. When she whimpered again, he simply embraced her, nuzzling her hair with sheer relief, enjoying immensely the proximity of another living being, knowing that they were safely out of sight of everybody but the headmaster, to whom the whole castle was nothing but a convenient place to store his omniscience.  
  
Hermione Granger knew exactly who was holding her tightly and warmly, if a bit snarkily. And oh, but he was so _warm!_ She murmured a bit and tipped her head up to snuffle at his neck, enjoying his scent as well as his abrupt intake of breath. She smiled to herself and tucked herself even closer to him; :Any closer,: she thought, :And I'll be in one of his coat pockets.:  
  
Snape jerked in surprise. It was very well to hold an exhausted head Girl for a moment to warm her out of her shock; it was another for her to be awake and enjoying the experience. He leant down and nibbled her ear.  
  
:What on earth?:  
  
:What the _bloody_ hell?:  
  
Severus Snape was even more shocked to feel a hand sneak up to his shoulder and a cheek rub on his own. That could _not_ be allowed. Instead of firmly rebuking her, he tilted her head until he could see her mouth, he then kissed his most irritating student; at first a light peck, then, pressing her to him, a lips-open, no-holds-barred _kiss._  
  
Mmmm. Delicious. She had no idea what had brought _this_ on; but she was _not_ averse to snogging Severus Snape until he couldn't think straight. And, judging from his actions, he was _not_ thinking straight. She would be killed when he came to his senses. Maybe obliviated. She didn't mind terribly at the thought; he wouldn't dare try to Obliviate himself, and judging from appearances, he was enjoying this immensely and could conceivably be tempted to repeat it in the future.  
  
:Oh, Merlin. She must still be in shock; or else, she's convinced that I'm Weasley. She's delicious. She needs to see Poppy.:  
  
:God damn it, he stopped.:  
  
"You need to see Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"Mmph." She snuggled grumpily into his side, noticing happily that he still had a leg entangled with hers, and making the most of it.  
  
"Miss Granger."  
  
She was forced to look up; his usual snarky tones were back, if a bit strained by her warmth and scent so nearly a part of him.  
  
~*~  
  
"Harry, Hermione is being ministered to by Professor Snape, for shock."  
  
Ron grimaced. "What? That greasy..." he trailed off, asleep on his stretcher. The heavy woolen blanket draped over his recently-laid-open chest rose and fell regularly. Harry frowned at the headmaster, who was still being fussed over by everyone nearby.  
  
"Snape? Are you sure, headmaster- ow!"  
  
Madame Pomfrey looked up from where she was unhexing his legs from their magical knots. "be quiet, or you'll look like a squid until this wears off." With a minute softening of her face, she handed him a bit of chocolate and patted him on the head before returning to untangling his bits of broken flesh.  
  
Poppy Pomfrey was a bit surprised to see a sulking and rather pink-cheeked Hermione escorted to her tender mercies by one Severus Snape, but dismissed it. Something rather pleasant must have happened to the girl; she had a rush of endorphins that was mostly taking care of the unpleasant side effects of a magical draining.  
  
"You'll be fine, dear. It'll be about two days until you're back up to strength again, and you shouldn't do anything more than nox and lumos, you know, small things? Until then, but you'll be quite fine. Oh, yes, Harry is at Mungo's already, he'll be fine, they just want to get him away from the confusion I suppose. Yes, Ron is in the infirmary, I believe; he'll have to stay at least a week until his ribs grow back, you know. Now off with you dear, and get some sleep before you fall over."  
  
A dark shadow saw the granger girl up to the portrait before returning to his duties among the students. There was no need to tell her that it had been only the cold and exhaustion that had brought them together; she knew.  
  
Alone in her rooms, Hermione granger, who had graduated, along with her friends, mere seconds before fighting off the Dark Lord, wondered wearily how on earth her diploma had managed to not get blood on it during the aftermath to the ceremony. She supposed that, after all the worry, Dumbledore really _had_ thought of everything.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
If I ever get bored again, I could write a prequel to this. Please review, because I rather like reviews, and also because I'll probably write you a little something back if you have something interesting to read.  
  
Have fun. ;) 


End file.
